How Can We Go Back?
by KrAzYLiKeAFoX
Summary: Ch. 11 up! Post-Hogwarts. RWHG romanceadventure. One of those Hermione was gone, now she is back and the trio has new info on voldie. Actually has a plot. Better than your average fic of the same kind. Go on...I dare you...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that you recognize. They are the property of JK Rowling, Scholastic, and are part of the Harry Potter franchise. I don even think I would want to own Harry Potter, cause I mean sure there is lots of money involved, and swarms are people who think your the greatest thing since slice bread (which really now, how cool is sliced bread?), but it's a lot of responsibility. Yea, that's what I tell myself to keep myself from asking over and over 'why hadn't I thought of that??' So to recap, no I do not own Harry Potter. 

Distribution: If you ask me first, then let me know where it'll be posted, then sure. Same goes for all of my stories. You can get ahold of me at XxKrAzYLiKeAFoXx@aol.com 

A/N: Hello there! How are we all today? Good I'm glad that your happy, and if your not then, reading this story should make your day =) OKay, this a post-Hogwarts story, and very different then any I've read. There is probably going to be some Hr/R shipping only cause what story would be complete without it?? (LoL) But mainly it's going to be very angsty. Oh, and in the 1st chapter there's gonna be a point when you ask yourself 'why doesn't Hermione want to see Harry and Ron?' and just to let you know ahead of time, no, it's not rape, or abuse, or anything like that. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy my latest story... 

How Can We Go Back? 

by QuEeN oF tHe UnIvErSe 

aka Cassandra 

~*~Chapter One~*~ 

_Three friends made their way further and further into the dungeons of the castle. The friendly grounds of Hogwarts seemed distant, and though only a few floors above them hundreds of students wandered, studied, and gossiped, the three had never felt more alone. With every step, it became harder to see. The scuttle of small feet could be heard running back and forth on stone floors. Convincing themselves the sounds were made by rats, the three pressed on. The dank corridor smelled of death and decay, but it was hard to pay attention to trivial matters such as that when going where these three were going. They were the only ones who knew the truth, the only ones who knew what had to be faced, and that now was the time they had to face it. They were about to meet their destiny, and hoped, they would live to tell about it._

__

__HermioneGranger woke with a start. Breathing heavily, she looked around the room to be certain she was safe. Everything was exactly as it had been when she had turned out the lights only four hours early. Her bathrobe was hung over the back of the armchair across from her bed, the curtains were drawn, the window slightly open letting in a cool breeze, the snow owl sitting on her bay window hooting softly.It took a moment for her mind to register what her eyes had just seen.As soon as it did, she jumped out of her bed and practically tripped over her feet while trying to get to the owl as fast as humanly possible. 

Now one would think that a witch would not be so surprised at an owl appearing at her residence, as all mail in the wizarding world traveled by owl, but for Hermione Granger it caused a fair amount of confusion. She had not had any contact with the wizarding world in five years, with the exception of receiving _The Daily Prophet_ each morning. But why she would be receiving a letter at this time of night was beyond her contemplation. 

With a great amount of apprehension, she untied the letter from the owl's leg. Instead of leaving, it stayed and looked at her, waiting for her to open the letter. It obviously was told to wait for a response. She inhaled sharply, and unrolled the parchment. 

_Dear Julie Ranger _the letter began. Hermione let out the breath she had been holding. It was a bill from _The Daily Prophet_. She looked into the owl's eyes, "Little early aren't you? It's only 3 am." The owl simply hooted in reply. She laughed a little at her own silliness as she went to her dresser to get the two galleons. No one could have possible figured out where she was living. She placed the galleons in the pouch on the owl's other leg, and it immediately flew back out the window. She watched it until it was only a speck, and then climbed back into bed for another few hours of, hopefully, uninterrupted sleep. 

********************************* 

The bleeping of her alarm clock woke her up at 7 o'clock. She rolled over and shut it off, giving silent thanks that she had not been plagued with any other dreams that night, as was so often the case. 

Hermione made her bed, and grabbed _The Daily Prophet_ that was lying on her window ledge without glancing at it. She made her way down to the kitchen, and turned on the coffee pot. When she finally sat at the table and looked at the newspaper, she received the shock of her life. 

Hermione had expect to see the column that usually took up the page on Monday mornings, _Where's Hermione?_. Every week it was filled with 'sightings' of her. According to various sources, in one week she had been in Surrey, Paris, London, Sydney, and Hong Kong. Of course, in reality she had never been to any of those places-she had not left Juliet, Iowa in five years-but people wanted to know where she was and would even read blatantly false information, as long as it was information. 

But the _Where's Hermione?_ column was not what she found that Monday morning. Instead she found a large picture of Albus Dumbldore, along with the headline, **Albus Dumbledore, Dead of Natural Causes**. 

"This has to be a joke. A really, really, unfunny joke," she said to herself as she turned to the second page to read the remainder of the article. When she reached the end she was very much convinced that it was not a joke. It was very real. Albus Dumbledore, her former professor, and friend was dead. And he had not died in battle, of in some glorious act of heroism, but of natural causes. _How natural is it to die?_, she thought bitterly. Silent tears streamed down her face, and her lower lip trembled. She read the last line of the article once more. _Funeral services will be held in a closed ceremony on Monday July 7th at Hogwarts._

__She knew what this meant, although she did not like it. It was time for her to make her appearance once more in the wizarding world. She owed him that. 

[A/N: I was gonna stop here but the I figured people would get more into it the more I put about my whole storyline, so I'm gonna keep going for a little longer into the plot.] 

****************************************** 

She was not exactly sure how she was going to get into the funeral service. It was a closed ceremony, invitation only. And sure, if she had come as Hermione Granger, there would be no doubt about her admittance, but she had not come as Hermione Granger. She had come as Julie Ranger. Former Hogwarts' student whose life had been changed by Professor Albus Dumbledore. 

It was doubtful that anyone would recognize her for who she really was. In the first few months of living in Juliet, while she was still paranoid of being found, she had changed her appearance greatly. Her look had always been 'small town,' so even though she was now actually living in a small town, her fears cause her to move to the opposite end of the spectrum. The hair was the first to change. It was her most recognizable feature. Formerly bushy and rather large, it was now very short, very straight, and very choppy looking, as well as dark brown with red highlights. Her style had gone from proper to casual trendy, she looked 5'5 rather then 5'2 due to her choice to always wear heels no shorter than three inches. Also, not wanting to use magic at any cost, though wanted to change her physical appearance slightly, she learned a daily beauty regimen she thought altered her appearance just enough so that with all aspects combine she was entirely unrecognizable. 

After living in Juliet a year without anyone finding her she had thought about reverting to her old style, but since weekly updates on her whereabouts were still appearing in the newspaper, she decided to continue as she was. And now, she was definitely glad that she had, hoping that no one at Hogwarts would identify who she really was, but would be moved enough by the story she would tell about how Professor Dumbledore had changed her life to let her in. 

She was standing near almost the end of a long line of people waiting to be admitted into Hogwarts. Many of the people she knew. She noticed Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, and Seamus Finnigan standing in line only a few persons ahead of her. Dean had hold of one of Lavender's hands, while the other held a little girl who looked about one year old. _Hmm, I always thought Lavender and Seamus would get together,_ Hermione thought.A few people in front of them was Padma and Parvati Patil standing with a pair of male identical twins, looking very chummy. Hermione wondered for a moment why Parvati and Lavender were not standing with each other, when she remembered the huge fight they had had 7th year. She was surprised that five years later they had not made up. She also spotted Cho Chang, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, and Justin Finch-Fletchery scattered throughout the line. Harry and the Weasley's were no where to be found however, so she assumed they were already inside. 

As people began filing into the castle, Hermione began to get nervous. So far no one had noticed her, and she was grateful for that, but she was suddenly becoming more and more apprehensive about the story she was about to tell. Professor McGonagall stood at the entrance, greeting those who entered. _She's not turning anyone away_, Hermione suddenly realized. _And there aren't any people waiting around the outside of the castle like you'd imagine there would be._ She did not know the man standing in front of her, so she decided to be bold and ask him a question, hoping it would not cause anyone around him to recognize her, after all, her voice was still the same. 

"Excuse me?" she asked him. 

"Yes?" he replied as he turned around to face her. 

"Well, I was just wondering, wouldn't you think there would be a lot of gawkers standing around the castle just watching? Or even trying to get in to the ceremony? I mean, Professor Dumbledore was a word wide figurehead." 

"Yes he was, and a great man. That's why the guest list was charmed. Even if a person knew how to find Hogwarts, they would continuously get lost on their way if they weren't supposed to be here. Quite ingenious if you ask me. I'm Patrick O'Neill by the way. I knew Albus since we were children." he said with a smile as he held out his hand. 

Hermione smiled back and took his hand, "Julie Ranger. Professor Dumbledore was my headmaster while I was at Hogwarts." 

"Ahh. You don't look at that old. Were you at Hogwarts while Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger were?" 

"Uh...yea. But we didn't hang out or anything. I was in Ravenclaw." 

"Hm," he nodded. "Brave kids. Defeating Lord Voldermort and all. Amazing. And they were only 17 years old. Sure opened a lot of doors for them. Shame about Hermione Granger though. I can't imagine why she'd run off after doing something that great. Been gone gone, what? Four years now?" 

"Five." 

"Oh, yea that's right. The fifth anniversary is coming up." 

"May 14th." 

"Well, maybe she'll come back for it. Wouldn't that be great? The three heroes together again!"  
"How do you know she isn't dead or something. And that's why she hasn't been in contact." 

"Well, I guess she could be. But Harry and Ron would never let anyone print that. The continue to say she's still alive, just that the stress got to her. That she never liked to be the center of attention, and that she's waiting for all the hype to die down before coming back." 

"How...how did the other two handle her leaving? I mean, you don't hear too much about it, do you?" Hermione asked in a voice she hoped was nonchalant. 

"Not really I suppose. I guess they're doing okay. Like I said, they firmly believe she's still alive." By this point Patrick was next in line to enter the castle. He shook Professor McGonagall's hand, and then it was Hermione's turn. Up close, she realized how much older McGonagall looked. She seemed to have aged 20 years in the past five. Though it could hardly be considered her fault. They had all been through a lot. 

"Thank you for coming," her former professor said as she took her hand. Hermione only nodded and then made her way into the place she had called home for seven years of her life. A place that just five years ago, she would have held in her heart with fond memories, yet that now, she thought about as a place she was sad to return to. She hated to think of Hogwarts like that, but she could not help it. Even though it's walls were filled with some of the best moments of her life, those moments were overshadowed by the one single worst. One that she would never forget, and could never forgive. 

She made her way towards the Great Hall where the ceremony was to be held. The sky had been enchanted to look like night, and hanging above the tables was a large banner with Dumbledore's face on it. The room was completely filled, and at the very front sat a casket, which presumably held Dumbledore's body. Hermione noticed it was open, but could not bring herself to go over to it. She had been close enough to death often enough in her short life. 

The ceremony was quite long , but very moving. Those who wished to recall a story or memory of Dumbledore were invited to do so, and many people took advantage of the opportunity. During these speeches was when Hermione saw Harry and Ron for the first time in five years. They both got up and spoke together about Dumbledore helping them many times throughout their seven years at Hogwarts, especially when it came to fighting Lord Voldermort. 

Hermoine had to admit that they looked good, especially after all they had been through. Harry's hair was still messy, though it looked to her as though that was now done on purpose. He also wore it so that it showed his scar proudly. Ron no longer looked lanky, or awkward, but muscular, and in charg of his own movements. Both were also dressed well, in black suits, white shirts, and black ties, that actually fit them right. 

Hermione let out a sigh of relief when the ceremony ended about four hours later. She had made it through without being discovered and could now go home to Juliet, Iowa. She had had enough of the wizarding world in the six hours she'd been in it. She was about to exit the Great Hall when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and heard a familiar voice. 

"Hermione?" 

********************************************* 

A/N Well, there was my first chapter. Tell me what you think. Should I continue? I'm probably not gonna write if no one wants to read, so let me know what you think. By the way the next chapter is when it's gonna start to get REALLY good. This was basically to give you some b/g info and set the scene. Oh, and sorry about typos, I kno there were some with names and stuff. So please review! Thanks =) 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Geesh, sorry this took so long. I've been so not having time lately, and unfortunately updates might get worse since I start school tomorrow. Please bare with me, I really appreciate all your support =) 

_Play cool, Hermione,_ she thought to herself. Slowly she turned around to face the redheaded girl she knew she'd see. 

"Hermione," Ginny whispered again, only this time it was not a question. 

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Julie. Not Hermione," she said with her most convincing smile of ignorance. 

Ginny looked Hermione up and down, on her face played a look of sadness. For a brief moment, Hermione thought she might have convinced Ginny she was not who she really was. Finally, their eyes met. 

"You were always a good liar when it came to people who didn't know you. Unfortunately for you I was one of your best friends for six years." Hermione was still debating whether or not to keep playing dumb while Ginny continued. 

"I love your hair," she said reaching out to touch it. "And the clothes. Definitely not something I'd picture you in, but it works for you," her voice seemed strained, and for the first time Hermione noticed the liquid covering Ginny's eyes. She was holding back tears. "Where have you been?" 

Seeing the always strong Ginny on the verge if tears, Hermione decided she could not keep up the charade with her. She looked around and then pulled her from the Great Hall and around a corner. The began having two conversations at once.  
"You can't tell anyone that you saw me here, Ginny. I'm going back to the States and staying there. In peace." 

"It's been five years, Hermione. Five years!" 

"Not Ron, not Harry, not your parents, not your diary." 

"Do you have any idea how worried we all were? Still are?" 

"I can't stay here, Ginny." 

"When you first left Ron and Harry understood. I didn't. I had no idea why you left, but they said that I wouldn't understand. That you needed time after everything you had just been through." 

"I did need time. Time to think." 

"Five years? You needed five years to think? Thinking is one of your best subjects. It shouldn't take five years." 

"Harry and Ron are right. You don't understand. You weren't there the night we fought Voldemort." 

"Good Merlin! Do you guys share a manual or something? Why does everyone keep telling me that I won't understand, yet they refuse to try and make me understand." 

"Ginny, your acting like we have some super cool secret that we won't let you in on just to make you angry or something. Did you ever think that maybe Harry and Ron don't tell you and maybe the reason I left is because it's too hard to talk about? Did you ever think that we didn't tell everyone the whole story? Cause I'm telling you right now, we didn't. We made an agreement not to, and the reason Ron and Harry are still living the public life and I ran away is because they apparently can handle lying better then I can." 

"Really? You didn't seem to have a hard time telling me your name was 'Julie'," she spat with animosity. 

"Ginny? Ginny?" another voice Hermione recognized said. It was the voice of Mrs. Weasley, and she was getting closer. 

"Ginny?" she spotted the two girls, and walked towards them. Hermione kept her eyes averted. "There you are dear. We're getting ready to leave. Who's your friend?" she asked sweetly. 

"We just met. What did you say your name was again?" it was more of a challenge then a question. Would Hermione be able to lie to sweet, old, Mrs. Weasley, we treated her as her own daughter for seven years. 

"Julie. Nice to meet you, ma'am." 

"Julie's from out of town. The States, actually." 

"Oh, how lovely! I've always wanted to visit the States. Chicago and New York in particular. Have you ever been?" 

"Uh, yes. To both actually. I liked Chicago better, though." 

"That's what Marla Thompkins told me, you know Marla, right Ginny? She said the shopping and food was better. Where are you staying dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked Hermione. 

"Uh, well, I was actually just going to take the Knight Bus home. Too far to apparate, you know?" 

"Nonsense. You'll come home with us, get a good meal in you, and then you can use our Floo Network. Your hooked-up of course?" 

"Well, yes, but-" 

"Then it's settled. Let's go. I need to find your brothers, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said as she started walking off, leaving Hermione staring worriedly at Ginny. 

"What am I gonna do? Your mum didn't notice it was me, but Harry and Ron will. They've known me to long." 

"Yep. Plus the fact mum didn't have on her glasses, and she's blind as a bat without them," Ginny said, a smirk playing on her face. 

"Why do you want me to be found out?" ask Hermione with confusion and sadness on her face. 

"Because, Julie," she spat the name once again, "you can't run forever." 

Ginny turned and walked away, and Hermione reluctantly followed her. Mrs. Weasley was standing and waiting for them at the only exit. Maybe Hermione could not run forever. But she could try to hide. 

A/N: Sorry about the length. I just really wanted to get something out for you all. I hope you liked it. More stuff to come. I'll try to update once more today, but I can't promise. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: hehe...um....yeaaaa...i guess that "today" I promised u last chapter turned out to be a couple months...well...sorry about that. I'm not gonna tell u how busy I've been or what not, cause we're all busy, and I think u know that I woulda updated if I hadn't been. So here I go.... 

Hermione Granger entered the Burrow for the first time in nearly 5 years. he first thing she noticed, was that not much had changed. It contained almost all of the same furniture, all in the same places. She thought to herself that she could probably manuever her way through the entire house blindfolded and in the dark without bumping into anything. 

Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley all arrived together. Harry, Ron, and Mr. Weasley had a few more bits of business to attend to before they returned back to the Burrow, and Fred and George had to go back to their houses to pack before leaving early the next morning for a business meeting in Prague (the fake vomit capitol of the world, according to them). This was perfectly well and good to Hermione. The fewer people she had to talk to and meet with, the fewer she would have to fool. Sure, Mrs. Weasley hadn't recognized her, but she was used to the old Hermione. She had not spent enough time with he to be able to recognize her after all the changes she made, and five years of growing up. She could probably hide her identity from Mr. Weasley as well, if she was lucky, the twins would not have noticed either, but her heart was racing at the thought of seeing Harry and Ron again. She had known them for the past 12 years. She shared living quarters with them at school nine months annually. She had had almost every class with them. They were her best friends. If Ginny had recognized her, wouldn't they? Her only source of hope came from the fact that they were male. They were not as observant as Ginny was, especially not Ron. Maybe the makeup and clothes would fool them...maybe she could convince Mrs. Weasely to let her leave before they came home... 

"Mum! Gin! We're home! We just gotta bring the luggage in," So much for that thought. A wave of panic swept through Hermione. 

"I need to use your bathroom!" she exclaimed, and strted heading up the stairs leading to the bathroom. 

Mrs. Weasely turned to her, a look of confusion on her face. "Of course dear. It's just up the stairs- third door on the right." 

Hermione turned to look at Mrs. Weasely and Ginny, realizing her error. Julie Ranger should not have known where the Weasely's bathroom was. She let out a nervous chuckle, "Wow. Talk about feeling like you know a place. It's like deja vu or intuition or something." She then turned and ran up the stairs, into the bathroom, and hastily closed the door behind her. Her face was red from embarrassment and worry. 

_Oh my God! What am I going to do!?! What and I going to DO!?!_ Suddenly, words spoken by Ron to her their first year of school came back. _"Are you a witch or aren't you?!"_

"I'm a witch! I'm a witch who is now back in the wizarding world!" She exclaimed to herself. "A witch in the wizarding world who is talking to herself, but still a witch. So all I need," she continued to herself, pacing back and forth, "is to figure out some magic I can use to make them not be able to tell who I am...using only what is in this bathroom." She let out another nervous chuckled which turned into a whine of despair. Hermione scoured the entire bathroom, unfortunately finding nothing of use. Then an idea dawned on her. Fred and George's room. They must have something that changes their appearance or identity's. After all the trouble they've got in how could they not? 

Silently and swiftly, Hermione opened the bathroom door, and opened the fourth door on the right which led to the twins former room. She would have to be quick or else Mrs. Wealey or Ginny might come up to see if she was okay. 

"Alright," she said, again to herself, as she scoped out the room, "If I were a set of mischievous, red-haired twins, where would I hide everything I didn't want my mum to see?" Her eyes stopped on the half opened closet door. She walked over to it, and opened it the rest of the way. In the left hand corner there was a section of wall that had obviously been charmed at one point, but was statring to wear away now. "Bingo." 

Reaching her hand through the false wall, she pulled out a small black box. "There has got to be more than this. It must be charmed." She bit her lip, deep in thought. "It couldn't be...I mean...well, I've got no other choice I guess," taking a deep breath, she then proclaimed, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good!" Suddenly, the little black box began to shake. Hermione dropped it and backed away, unsure about what was happening. Within seconds, the box had sprouted table legs and became a table filled with hundreds of novelty items. "Wow...I knew they were mischievous, but...wow." Hermione walked over to the table searching through the items. Invisible ink, disappearing flowers, reusable toilet paper. Finally, she came across a small bottle. 

Lose a bet to some guy and never pay, and now your 

dating his sister? Run over a man's dog and then realize 

he's in charge of making your dinner? Well then you have 

a problem on your hands...unless you have Ivan's Identity 

Ilixer. 

Directions: Two drops on your tongue, and say the name 

of the people (up to 4) who you wish to not know your identity. 

Lasts48 hours. 

"Perfect." Hermione put two drops on her tongue, and said loudly, "Harry Potter, Ronald Weasely, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasely." She could only trick four, and since Ginny already knew, she figured it was no use to waste it on her. She put the bottle back, and as quick as the table appeared, it once again folded itself up and was a black box. After she put the box back where it came from she walked out into the hallway, bumping into Mrs. Weasely. 

"Oh there you are dear. I just came to see if you were all right." 

"Oh yes. I'm fine. I...um..I....accidently went to the third floor instead of the second, and got all turned around. You have a very large house. B-Beautiful also." 

"Thank you dear. Yes, it is easy to get lost here." Mrs. Weasely smiled at her in a way that made Hermione feel terrible guilty about deceiving her. "Well, dinner is ready. You can come down and meet my husband and son and his friend. Now, I should let you know...my son is Ron Weasely and his friend is Harry Potter." 

Hermione was unsure how she should react to this news. Hermione didn't care, but would Julie? She opted for an, "Oh my. Really? The Ron Weasely and Harry Potter?" 

"Yes, yes. I thought it would be quite rude to through you into that situation without knowing. But they are wonderful boys, just like everyone else, so you can be sure to treat them that way. No extra-special treatment or anything." 

Hermione almost laughed at the thought of herself giving them extra-special treatment. She was going to try her hardest to avoid them. After all, she didn't know how well the elixir had worked. "Don't worry Mrs. Weasey, I'm not easily star-stucked."  
"Well after having been to New York, I can imagine you not being." Mrs. Weasely began leading Hermione down the stairs. "Doesn't George Clooney live there? He is so handsome." 

Laughing, Hermione replied, "I believe he does. I've never met him...wouldn't mind it though..." 

"Neither would I," Mrs. Weasely replied with a wink. 

As they entered the kitche, everyone was seated around the table which was filled with delicious smelling food. "I would like to introduce you to Julie Ranger. She's a friend of Ginny's from The States." Smiles and hellos greeted her. "This is Arthur, my husband, my son Ron, and his best friend, Harry," pointing to each as she announced them. "You can have a seat next to Ron." 

"Thanks," she said and smiled, though it was nervously. 

The dinner went on for a few hours, not because of the eating as much as the talking. Talking about Dumbledore, about work, about the upcoming nuptials of Harry and Ginny, something which somehow did not entirely shock Hermione. They posed Hermione a few friendly questions, all but Ginny who apparently decided that if she wasn't going to say anything about Julie's true identity she would not say anything at all. Hermione answered all their questions, being truthful when she could, and lying when she could not. 

After dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Weasely stayed into he kitchen to do the dishes and prepare dessert. Harry and Ginny decided to go for a short walk, and Hermione ended up in the living room with Ron, after being told by Mrs. Weasely that guests were not allowed to do manual labor. 

They talked for a few minutes, only small talk, but Hermione could still feel the connection between them, and she was almost positive something as strong as she felt had to be felt by Ron as well. It was as if their souls were pouring into each other, though as far as Ron knew they had only known each other a few hours. 

"Do you wanna go for a walk? We have this really pretty lake behind our house, and it's a bit stuffy in here. I want to walk off some of that food." He said this all very quickly, ears reddening, and seeming as though he was trying to give every excuse of why he wanted to walk with her other then the true reason. He had known her a few short hours, but it felt like it had been his entire life. Love was what he felt. Something he hadn't felt for anyone in five years. Not since... 

"I'd love to." As much as she realized that going for a walk with him was a bad idea, she could not help it. Ron had been her best friend for 7 years. She missed talking to him, hearing him laughing, she even missed fighting with him. She longed to feel the special bond between them once again. The bond she had never felt so strongly with another human being. For the first time in 5 years, she yearned to scream out loud who she really was. But she couldn't. She couldn't. 

A/N: Did you like? A little mini-cliffy there. Next chapter will be their walk. Review please. =) 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yay! I got two more reviews! Thanks bunches to those two...i would appreciate it greatly if you got a chance to spread the word, if you did =) i'm really getting into this story now. For the longest time I just wasn't into writing, and I just was out of ideas, but now I back full force, and hopefully I'll stay this way for awhile. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving holiday. Love you lots =) 

"It was a beautiful ceremony," the brunette said, searching for a topic that would rid the pair of the awkward silence. Hermione and Ron were walking along the lake. The moon and stars were brighter than Hermione had seen in years, and the reflection from them shone off the pond and onto their faces. 

"Yes, it was. How did you know Dumbledore again?" 

"Uh..." she couldn't tell him what she had told the man at the funeral, he would know that she hadn't gone to Hogwarts. "uh...he was a great...uh...family friend. Really close to my father." 

Ron nodded, "Was your father at the funeral?" 

Hermione looked down as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. This answer wouldn't be a lie. She paused a moment, and swallowed the lump in her throat before answering, "No. He died...In the war...Both my parents did." 

Ron, looked down as well for a moment. "I'm sorry. I know it doesn't help to say that, and I'm sure you've heard it a lot," he took in a breath, "but no matter how many people I talk to, and I talk to a lot, about relations dying in the war, it doesn't get any easier to figure out what to say. But I truly am sorry. About each and everyone of them that died or was injured, and every family member and friend that was left behind. And I feel so stupid to say 'I'm sorry' but I just don't know how else to express it." 

"I'm sorry is perect," Hermione replied. The had both stopped walking and were now staring at each other, face to face. "I know it doesn't seem like a lot, and when my parents first died and the first hundred people told me that they 'were sorry' about the loss of my parents, I thought to myself, "well thanks for being sorry, but how is that supposed to help bring my parents back?" And then eventually I realized, it's not. But neither will anything else. 

"It's hard to express to someone all these emotions you feel. Pity for those they left behind, sorrow for the loss of such a great person, joy for having know such a great person, guilt for not being the one who died,_ happiness_ because you weren't the one to die. The range of emotions that are felt are incredible. They conflict with each other, they may conflict with what you think you really feel, and they just confuse you to the point where the only thing remotely intelligent and soothing you can say is "I'm sorry." And for me that told me everything I needed to know. That they thought my parents were great people, and that they couldn't possibly articulate in words everything they wanted to say." 

Ron smiled at the girl in front of him, "That makes me feel a heck of a lot better about my choice in words." Hermione smiled back, and the continued walking in a comfortable silence until Ron spoke up again. "I can't put my finger on it, but you remind me of someone." 

Hermione's heart began to race once again. "Really? How so?" 

"Well..it's not so much your appearance, but how you hold yourself. How you express so well exactly what's on your mind. I bet you over-think things on occasion? Am I right?" Hermione merely nodded in response. "And how you completely changed my way of thinking just then. I thought for 5 years I was the biggest prat in the world and now I feel like I've been doing everything right. I haven't felt this good about myself in ages." 

"Don't get too big a head now," she couldn't help the friendly jibe. They came so natural when she was talking to him. 

He let out a small laugh in response. "You really remind me of someone." He put a hand on her arm and they both stopped once again, staring at each other in silence for only a few seconds, though it seemed to both an eternity. 

Ron broke the silence. His voice was barely a whisper, "It feels like I've known you my whole life." He was staring deep in to Hermione's eyes, as if searching for something. "It's not easy for me to open up to people, or to talk to people, but it's so easy with you, and I don't know why." Slowly, he reached his hand up to face and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and let his fingers linger on her face. As if it was in slow motion, his lips came towards her, his eyes still looking drowning in hers. Hermione leaned in, tilting her head. His eyes closed, as their lips were millimeters apart. 

"Your mum is probably wondering were we are," Hermione whispered, struggling to release the words. Ron's eyes shot open and looked at her questioningly for so short a moment she was not sure if she had imagined it or not. 

He nodded and in a voice just as strained as Hermione's replied, "Probably." And they continued the walk back to the house in silence. 

******************************************** 

"That friend of yours was nice. How do you know her?" Ron question his sister after Hermione had left. The two Weasley children and Harry were sitting in the living room in front of the fire. Ron was still confused about what had happened a few hours before at the lake. He was still confused about why this girl he was sure he had never met in his life seemed so familiar to him. 

"We met at the funeral. Seemed like I had known her my entire life- or at least for the past 11 years." 

"She had that effect on you too? She must remind us of someone we both know. I was thinking she kinda seems like Josie Thompkins, don't you think?" 

"Oh no, not at all. Josie is much less intelligent. I actually think I know who she reminds me of." 

"Who?" inquired Ron. 

"Hermione." At this comment, Harry spit out the water he had been drinking and began coughing. Ginny looked at him worriedly, patting him on the back. Ron ignored this scene, and continued the conversation. 

"I don't think so. She didn't remind me of Hermione in the least." 

"Really? Not at all?," Ginny turned away from Harry to face Ron once again, "Well, I thought so. She's very intellectual like Hermione, polite too. And she'd have to have that Gryffindor bravery to try mum's tofu and broccoli dish. She even looked a bit like Hermione, if Hermione had cut, straightened, and dyed her hair, and began using make-up," Ginny had promised she would not tell anyone that Julie was Hermione, but she never said she would not insinuate or make connections between the two. So she decided she would be _very_ blatant, in talking about them. 

"I don't think she looked at all like Hermione. In fact, I'm sure that it's Josie that Julie reminds me of." 

"Ron, it's okay for someone to remind you of Hermione. It's not ruining her memory any." Ginny was getting angry at her brother's stubbornness. She now turned to question her fiancee. "Didn't she remind you of Hermione, Harry?" 

Harry, who had just recovered from his coughing fit looked like a fish out of water, torn between the opinion of his best friend and his future wife. "Well...I-I...well...maybe a little?" 

"Harry! How can you say that? You were best friends with Hermione for 11 years! 11 YEARS! How can you think she was anything like this Julie girl?" Ron shouted indignantly. 

"Well...I said only a little. It's not like I think she _is_ Hermione." 

"Well of course you aren't. No one thinks that, Harry," Ginny replied sweetly, "I was just saying that she reminded me _a lot_ of Hermione. Not that she _was_ Hermione. Although that would be great if she was, wouldn't it?" 

"How could she possibly be two people Gin?" Ron asked, irritated. 

"Not two people, just one, who is unsure of her identity. Or who knows, maybe...wants _to hide_ her identity." _Could I point this out in a more obvious way?_, thought Ginny. 

"That's insane Ginny. If Julie was Hermione she'd tell us because we're her friends." 

"Well, what if she had amnesia or something and forgot who we were?" 

"Come on Gin, that seems a little far fetched. I mean, sure she has some similar personality traits to Hermione, and maybe looks a little bit like her, but that she really is her?" Harry input. 

"Well, of course it's far fetched dear. I don't think it's true, I was just saying it would be great it something like that happened and we had Hermione back with us." 

"Yea, it would be, but it's not gonna happen because that's crazy," and with that last remark, Ron got up and apparated from the living room to his own apartment. 

It was only when he was laying in bed that night, alone with his thoughts, that he allowed himself to admit that Hermione was the person that Julie reminded him of, and that she reminded him of her to a great degree. 

A/N: Well there you go, the end of this chapter. Hopefully I'll have another up soon. I'll try for at least one more before my Thanksgiving break ends cause it hard to write during school week. Please review, and if you leave your e-mail with the review or it's on you FF.net profyle I'll im you when I update. =) 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I was so excited that I got like 5 more reviews! YaYnEsS! FYI...there's kinda a problem with the fact that I've decided to make there be no time change from england to america. I know there obviously is in real life, but this isn't real life and it would make the story SO much more difficult to write if I used proper times, so please bare with me, and I hope you don't mind. Also, sorry ahead of time for grammer/spelling mistakes. I spell checked it and everything, but it's really late right now as I put the finishing touches on, so sorry if it sucks. I hope it doesn't though. =) 

Hermione arrived home that night via the Floo Network. She changed into pajamas and got into bed as soon as she walked out of her fireplace, and was looking forward to sleep. Unfortunately, her mind was not in agreement with her body. Her mind wanted to replay the scene by the lake and analyze it from every viewpoint. It wanted to examine her feelings for Ron, and her reasons for running away for a second time. She was split between logic and reason and her heart, and she did not know which one she should listen to. Both had been wrong before. It had been five years...maybe she was wrong...maybe the spell had worked...But before she could finish thinking her body one and she drifted into sleep. 

*******************************************************  
_The_y _reached the door at the end of the corridor. The small amount of light surrounding them came from a torch nearly twenty feet back, but to create their own light would draw to much attention. _

_"Last chance if you want to turn back," the dark-haired boy whispered, unsuccessfully trying to keep his voice steady. His friends shook their heads, they had come too far to turn back no matter how frightened they were. "Okay then. Here we go."_

_He turned to the door and pointed his wand at the rusty lock, "Alohomora_." _The lock clicked, and the door creaked open a few centimeters. _

_The three friends inhaled deeply in unison and with the black-haired boy leading the way, pushed the door open and stepped inside. As soon as they had all entered the door closed and locked on it's own, cause the girl who was closest to it, to jump in surprise. The redhead grabbed her hand, safety and comfort radiating off him._

_The room was pitch black. "I suppose we should make some light now. We won't be able to do anything if we don't," the girl said. Each proceeded to say "Lumos," and three wand tips dimly illuminated the room. The could now see that the room was not a dungeon as they had assumed, but a lair. There were instruments in the room that could not be used for anything but torture, and at the far left hand side there was a cave-like opening. All three sets of eyes landed on it at the same time. That was where they had to go._

_Wordlessly, all three headed towards the cavern. With each step the darkness increased and their wands gave off less light. Then came the scream and the hand being torn away from the redhead. "Hermione!" they boys yelled, running in the direction she had been pulled._

__

_***********************************************_

__

__Hermione's body shot up, once again gasping for breathe. Her body had broken into a cold sweat. She laid back down, hand on her chest, trying to steady her racing heart. _This is getting old_, she thought. She had been plagued with nightmares like these since she left. At first they had been a nightly occurrence, she had stopped sleeping for a short time after because she feared reliving the night in her dreams. Eventually, however, they started to subside. She'd have three days of nightmares a week, then two, then three. Soon it was odd for her to have them more then once a month. This, however, had been the second night in a row, and although she did not want to admit it, that worried her. 

Looking over at the cock she saw it read 6:15. _Might as well get up now. Doubt I'll be able to get back to sleep anyway._

__Getting out of bed, she slipped on her slippers, wrapped her robe around her, grabbed the _Daily Prophet_ on the window sill, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. She turned on the coffee pot, and hearing the comforting sounds of the drippings, sat down at the table and looked at the paper. The first thing she noticed was that the "Where's Hermione" column was back on the front page. After making sure that everything else seemed to be normal she poured herself a cup of coffee and went back to her bedroom to get dressed for work. 

She had been working for the past few years as a shop clerk at a thrift store. Not exactly a career she had envisioned herself in, but there was not much else in Juliet. Her first year there she had worked as a waitress at a local truck stop, but she soon found out she did not have the natural grace needed to balance three triple cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, an order of onion rings, a large slice of cherry cheese cake, and two diet sodas. And she had found that out the hard way- by spilling the order on a rather large and intimidating trucker who did not seem all to please to have his lunch covering his leather jacket. 

What she had imagined for her was to be Healer at St. Mungo's, married to Ron Weasley, and having some red-haired children running around their Tudor house in Surrey. But a lot of things had changed, not the least of which was her future. 

At the thought of Ron her mind once again drifted to the previous night. She had wanted so badly to kiss him, and she almost let herself- her brain had not kicked in until it was almost done, but she was glad it had. The feelings she had now were as good as imaginary. Her and Ron had never dated while at school. It was not until 7th year that they had admitted to themselves that they felt something between them, and it was on _the_ night that they had admitted them to each other. Hermione smiled to herself, _What is it about being in mortal peril that makes guys confess their feelings? _They only had time for a short kiss before they had to go off into battle, and the rest was history. Right now her love for Ron was the same love she felt in her 7th year, but five years and all they went through can change a person. It was hard to stay away from him, but made it work by telling herself that they were no longer compatible, and that nothing would have worked out between then anyway. If they had kissed she could have been proven right, but she also could have been proven wrong. And she was not sure, if put in that situation, what she would do. 

Shaking her head she drew herself out of her reverie and proceeded in changing her clothes, brushing her teeth, and doing her hair and make-up. It was only as she was about to walk out the door that she realized she was missing something. 

"Where did I put my purse?" she asked out loud. She looked at the bench next to her door, which was where she usually left it, but it was not there. She then checked her bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom, even the pantry, but it was nowhere to be found. 

"How am I supposed to leave the house with out my keys or wallet?" she was extremely irritated. Just as she was about to check her bedroom for a second time she heard a tap at her window. Pig, Ron's tiny and over-exuberant owl, was at her kitchen window with a roll or parchment attached to his leg. She ran to the window, letting the owl in quickly- her neighbor would certainly ask questions if they saw an owl hovering at her window at 7:30 in the morning. Pig fluttered in and layed himself, apparently quite exhausted, on her table. 

"Aw, poor Pig," Hermione said, petting him on the head. She got him a dish of water and a slice of turkey from her fridge, and then unhooked the letter from his leg. 

_Dear Julie_, the letter began, _I noticed just after you left that your purse was left in my bedroom. I'm not sure how it got there...strange isnt it? Well, I thought I'd let you know so that you didn't drive yourself crazy looking for it. You can use the Floo Network to come over here anytime and pick it up- no need to call ahead, someone is always home. Guess we'll see you sooner then we expected. -Ginny_

__"That brat stole my purse!" shouted Hermione to Pig, who in return only stared at her blankly. "She wanted to make sure I had to come back to there house again. Oh, that brat!" Hermione was infuriated. She had no choice, everything was in her purse- her car keys, house keys, credit cards, money, visa papers. 

As soon as Pig left she called her boss and told her that she'd be missing work once again due to a family emergency. Her boss was not to thrilled, but Hermione was her only worker and she needed her. 

********************************************** 

"Ron! Ron, where are you? Ron!" Ginny had apparated herself to Ron's apartment. "There you are. What are you doing?" She finally went into Ron's bedroom and turned on his light. Ron was in his bed. 

He sat up when she turned on the light and groggily (and irritably) replied, "Silly me, I was sleeping. What a funny thing to do at 6:30 in the morning." 

"Har, Har, Har. Your wit has always impressed me Ron," his sister remarked sarcastically. 

"What the hell are you doing here at this time, Gin?" Ron was only now able to squint his eyes open. They were still sensitive to the light. 

"I need a favor from my absolute favorite brother." 

"Should have guessed. And you couldn't wait to ask me this favor till- oh, I don't know, noon- because?" 

"Because it could be to late then." 

"What could be to late? Is everything all right?" Ron asked, worried. 

"Yes, yes. Everything is fine." 

"Oh, well in that case I'm still annoyed. What's the favor?" 

"I need you to spend the day at the Burrow and wait for Julie to come pick up her purse." 

"What?" 

"She left her purse at the Burrow last night, and I owled her right away to tell her. She's most likely going to pick it up today, but I don't know what time because I told her she could come anytime without telling us first." 

"Why would you say that?" 

"Because usually someone is always home. But then I realized that I promised I would go over the wedding menu today with the planner, Harry and dad have work, and mum is going to be at Millie's all day. And I thought that since your just on call today that you could hang around the house and wait for her. I'm betting she'll come early so she can still get to work today, so you'll only have to be at the house a few hours max." 

"I don't know, Gin. I had some important stuff I wanted to get to today." 

"Of course you did, Ron," Ginny said in a tone that told him she did not believe him, but she did not want to get him mad before he said yes. "But I'm your little and only sister, and you love me, and you would do anything for me, right?" She gave him one of her famous smiles, which he was sometimes immune to, being her brother and all, but every so often... 

"Fine, I'll do it. But if I get paged-" 

"You'll have to go. I understand completely." She went over to his bed and hugged him, saying, "Your the best brother ever, Ron!" 

"Either that or the biggest sucker." 

"Well, either way, I have to get to the wedding planner. She hates it when I'm late, to which I say, it's only giving her more money. But whatever. You should probably get dressed. You should be at the house by 7:30." 

"7:30! Bu-" 

"Bye, Ron!" And in a flash of green and a loud 'pop' she was gone. 

"7:30..." Ron continued to grumble as he got out of bed and began to dress. 

***************************************** 

Back at the Burrow, Ginny was conversing with Harry's head in the fire. 

"So what are you plans for today," he asked her. 

"Oh, I don't know, shopping maybe. Might go try on my dress again," she said smiling. 

"That's the third time this week. I think it still fits," he laughed. 

"I know, but I love seeing it. It's gorgeous! Wanna meet for lunch?" 

"Well, I was actually gonna see if Ron wanted to-" 

"No. He can't." 

"Why not?"  
"He's gonna be here. Julie left her purse last night and he's gonna come over in a few minutes to wait for her to pick it up." 

"Why aren't you doing that?"  
Ginny shrugged and tried to look innocent, "He offered." 

"Gin, I know Ron, and I know he would never offer to do anything that required him to be out of bed before noon." 

"Maybe he likes her?" Harry's head gave her a look, and she broke. "Well, I ask him to because I think they should date. They're PERFECT for each other-" 

"Gin-" Harry rubbed his temples. 

"He needs to start dating. He hasn't had a second date in five years. _Five years_!" 

"Ginny, he's a grown man. He doesn't need his sister stetting him up with her friends." 

"Maybe that's exactly what he _does_ need. Besides, I know Julie_ really, really_ well. And I know they are meant for each other." _I also know that Ron needs to realize who she is or nothing is going to change_, she thought. 

"Well, when this blows up in your face, I'm not gonna say I thought it was a good idea- cause I don't." 

"Well, then when it goes perfectly and they fall in love don't take credit for it either," Ginny replied stubbornly. 

"I have to go. I love you," he said sincerely. 

"I love you to," she said, just as sincerely. And then, he was gone. 

A few minutes later Ron arrived, and Ginny left. _I don't care what I have to do to get them to spend time together, but Ron will know who she is_, was her last thought as she closed the door behind her. 

*************************************************** 

A/N: Wow this is one of my longer chapters! About four pages! Hopefully, it will sustain you for awhile because I doubt I'll be able to post for awhile...maybe a few weeks...Vacation ends tomorrow, and it's hard to write during the school week. Then next weekend I have a retreat I need to go on. I'm not sure how many chapters are left, but I'm thinking at least 4-6. Who knows though? Thanks ahead of time for new reviews =) love you! 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: hello all. Hope you don't hate me. It's been awhile. I'm sure you'd rather just read the story than listen (or read) me talk about why I haven't updated, so I won't. Enjoy the story. 

IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT PLOT: Previously the identity concealing potion Hermione took was said to last 48 hours, but I am changing it to 24 hours. Please note that. 

*********************************** 

_Okay, in, out, and back home in under a minute_, Hermione coached herself as she was about to step into her fireplace. "The Burrow!" she shouted as she threw the Floo Powder, and was swirled into the uncommonly quiet Weasley kitchen. 

"Hello? Anyone home? Ginny?" as she turned to call up the stairs someone came from behind and tapped her shoulder. She shrieked, but when she turned to face the source of the tap, was comforted to see Ron. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." 

Hermione put her hand over her heart and took a few deep breaths before speaking. "It's okay. I'm always just a bit...jumpy." 

"Ginny had to go over some wedding plans or something, and no one else was going to be home, so she asked me to wait for you." 

"Thanks. I hope it didn't inconvenience you too much." 

"Oh, don't worry about it, it didn't at all. But you see, the thing is Ginny brought your purse to my house to give to me to give to you, and since it was about 5 hours before I was planning on getting up, in my state of grogginess I left it at my house. I was just about to go get it. You can wait here for a second, or...or if your in a hurry you can come with and pick it up." 

"Well, I'm not in a hurry, but I can come with anyway. Save you a few trips." 

Ron smiled at her, and she went weak in the knees the way she always had whenever he flashed her the Weasley grin. "All right. It's at 345 Coverdale. You can apparate there, right?" 

"Of course." 

And with two pops and green flashes they were gone, and with two more pops and green flashes they were in Ron's living room. "Welcome to my humble abode," Ron said to Hermione, giving an over-exaggerated bow, and causing her to giggle. He continued in seriousness, "It's not much, I'm sure places in New York are much more exciting, but this is good enough for me." 

"I think it's lovely. Very...very you," she responded as she noted the walls were orange, the team color of the Chudley Cannons, and that there was various items of Quidditch paraphernalia around the room. 

Ron eyed her playfully, "You've known me for-what 12-13 hours- and you think you know my tastes?" 

Hermione smiled at him. "You're very readable." And it was true. Of course he had a few layers. Ones that had to be dug for and took awhile to find, but much of Ron was worn on his sleeve. When their eyes met they had another soul touching moment. Neither had felt a stronger connection with anyone in their lives. 

Slowly, Ron moved closer to her until they were only a few short inches apart. Hermione thought her heart was going to explode from her chest. "What am I saying now?" he quietly asked. 

Still having trouble breathing, Hermione looked from his lips to his eyes, and barely audibly responded, "That you're going to get my purse now?" But she barely finished the sentence before his lips were on hers and twelve years of suppressed feelings came out of both of them. His arms instinctively came around her waist and hers clasped behind his head. The kiss was soft and sweet and passionate all at the same time. It felt like they had been doing this for years. It felt so right, so perfect. 

When they finally broke away they leaned their foreheads together, still holding one another, and still trying to catch their breath. "I guess I'm not all that readable after all," Ron stated. Hermione smiled to note that Ron was still the same in that respect as well- he always had to fill awkward silences with humor. 

"Guess not." 

Not looking at her, Ron spoke, "I want you to have dinner with me. Tonight. Like on a date." Finally, he looked her in the eyes when he noticed Hermione was hesitating. He added, "I won't take no for an answer. You can come by at 7:00." 

"Okay," she responded, nodding. 

Again, Ron flashed that grin, "I'll go get your purse." They held on to one another for one more half second before Ron went to his room to retrieve her purse. While he went to his room, Hermione mentally slapped herself. She should not have kissed him. She should have stopped it. She should have said no to the date. But how could she have after that kiss. It proved that her and Ron were still meant to be together. After all those years, even though they may have physically drifted apart, they hadn't emotionally. Their hearts were still bound to one another. 

Ron returned and handed her her purse. "See you here at 7." Hermione merely nodded in response and then apparated before she did something rash like envelope him in her arms and smother him with her lips, or worse, tell him the truth. 

A/N: So I was debating if I should go on an with this chapter, and add the next part on of post this, and then the second part later. I know this is really short, but the next part as far as I can tell will be very long. It will be getting into the main plot of the story and things will be explained. So I figured I'd put this half out to sustain you until the next chapter comes out. I might combine them later on. 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry in advance for any grammer/spelling mistakes. It's really late. Here goes the story... 

_No, no, no! this is all wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong!_ Hermione was standing in front of her closet which was half empty due to the fact the most of her clothing was thrown half-hazardly throughout her bedroom. 

An extreme understatement would be to say that Hermione was extraordinarily nervous. Her palms were sweaty, her breathing ragged, and her hands shaky. Although all these particular ailments were due to the fact that she was going to meet one Mr. Ronald Weasley for dinner in under two hours, the nervousness had multiple layers. 

On the surface, her nervousness was caused by her clothing dilemma. Hermione had purchased a whole new wardrobe when she decided to change her identity. She had clothes for every occasion, all very stylish and trendy (or so the sales lady told her), yet nothing seemed to be right for tonight. Hermione had not been on a date in a very long time. Her small town did not offer very many options, and the fact the largest cities where people her age would hang out was nearly three hours away- a trip she was not willing to make. Therefore, Hermione had no idea what to wear. Not to mention that fact that this was not just any date with any guy. 

This was, technically, Hermione and Ron's first date. Ron, the guy she had loved since as long as she could remember. But Ron thought she was Julie Ranger, his little sister's friend from the States, who, for some reason he could not understand, he felt an amazing connection with. And without more of Ivan's Identity Ilixir she would only stay Julie until 10 o'clock that night. What a shock it would be to Ron to one minute be speaking to Julie, and then the next minute Hermione has suddenly situated herself in front of him. So, Hermione needed to make sure this was a short date. 

Of course her identity being exposed was the largest factor in her nervousness, and the most terrifying. Knowing her future was in danger, Hermione formulated a plan. Not a very good plan, she realized, but under the pressures at the time, it was as good as she could do. Her plan was, simply, to get Ron to hate her. She would be an awful date- rude, overbearing, condescending- anything to have him kick her out within an hour or two of arriving. 

As she was devising the plan in her head, her eye caught a flash of red in her closet. Reaching for it she puled out a strapless, A-line mini-dress. Nothing too scandalous, yet still one of those 'knock 'em dead' dresses. 

She looked it over for a moment, pondering. _Just because I trying to get him to kick me out doesn't mean I can't do it while looking fabulous, does it?_ she thought. After approximately another three seconds of pondering, she promptly carried the dress into the bathroom, and continued to get ready. 

********************************************************************* 

At precisely 7 o'clock Hermione was ready to apparate to Ron's doorstep looking utterly stunning in her red dress, and matching red pumps, which after having been on less than ten minutes she recalled, quite painfully, why she had stopped wearing them. Her hair was perfectly coifed, and her makeup was glamorous, but not overdone. 

******************************************************************** 

She arrived at his house with every intention of carrying out her plan. For all of the 2.5 seconds it took Ron to answer the door she was prepared to be completely uncouth and horrendously boring- really, she was. But when he opened the door and flashed her his trademark grin, and she saw his fiery red hair in correlation with an emerald green shirt and canary yellow tie, all hopes of her plan being effective came undone. 

"Hi," he said with his grin. "You look...wow." 

"You look...wow, too," she responded playfully, also grinning. 

After all the years, Hermione could still make Ron blush. She loved making him blush. She loved that he could make her blush just as much. He could also quite easily make her go weak in the knees, as he demonstrated with his next words after he had led her inside to a candlelit room. 

"I hope you don't mind but , I really wanted to get to know you better so I figured, that I could cook, and we could have a quiet evening here. You know, good food, good company?" he seemed nervous about the idea, as though she would not accept. He continued when Hermione stood motionless and silent looking at the candle illuminated table with a vase of pink roses on it, her favorite flower. "If...if you really want...we could...i mean...we can go out somewhere. It wouldn't be a big de-" 

"No," she cut him off. "Sorry, it's just so...perfect. Really. It's just perfect." She gave him a small smile, hoping he could not see the tears that were trying to well up in her eyes. This was something the Ron she knew would never do. It was amazing how he could be so like he was before, yet at the same time so much more mature and adult. He was confident, yet his reaction to her silently looking over the room proved he also need reassurance. This mature Ron was not 'better' than the old Ron, just different. Still perfect to Hermione. 

"Oh, okay. Good then," he looked relieved. They stood in a uniquely comfortable silence until Ron realized that they were only staring at each other. "Uh, uh...here, why don't we get started." Ron pulled out her chair, she sat, and he pushed it back in. "If it's okay, we'll start with salad, then I have a vegetable soup, and the main course is pasta in a red sauce. Oh, and chocolate mousse for dessert." He bagan putting salad on her plate, but Hermione could not help looking at him in awe. "What?" 

"You cook? Like, real cooking- more than microwaving?" 

Ron blushed again and nodded. "My mum taught me a few things before I moved out. She knows how utterly helpless I would be without home cooking, and I supposed didn't want me over at the Burrow to eat everyday, so she taught me a bit, and it turns out I wasn't as hopeless as everyone at first thought. Do you cook?" 

Laughing, she replied, "No. Cooking is most definitely _not_ something I can do. For some reason my toast always burns, and no matter how hard I try, water just won't boil for me." 

Ron also laughed, "Well, I'm sure you have many other talents." 

She shrugged, replying, "I have some." 

"Tell me about them. Tell me all about you." 

Hermione was caught off guard by his seriousness. This aspect of the new Ron would take some time to get used to. Hermione found herself taking Ron's spot as the comic relief. "How is that fair? I tell you everything about me, but learn nothing about you? That wouldn't be polite." 

Ron genuinely laughed at this, "Well then how 'bout we compromise. We'll switch off asking questions. I'll ask you one first, then you ask me one. And we'll keep going until we find out everything about one another." 

"Okay. Sounds like an intriguing idea. So what, Mr. Weasley is your first question?" 

"Hmm...well. I need to make sure it's a good one." 

"And why is that?" 

"Well, my question will be setting the bar for all following questions. Set it too low and we may never reach an appropriate height- we may get bored. But set it too high, and we won't be able to surpass it and all our time will be spent thinking of questions of equal merit." 

Trying to keep the same false seriousness Ron was wearing, Hermione played along. "That is a lot of pressure put on you. I'm glad I don't have to ask the first question." 

"Oh, you should be. I figured it would be more gentlemanly to give you the second question, which is why I took the job f the first." 

"I don't know how I'll ever repay you." 

Suddenly the serious Ron came back, "I can think of ways," and just as quickly (while Hermione looked down blushing), the old Ron came back, "but that's for later. Right now, I have thought of my first question." 

"I can hardly wait to hear it." 

"Then wait you shan't. Are you ready? You may be shocked at it's bar setting ability." 

Hermione, still playing along, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then looked back at Ron determinedly. "Ready." 

"What were you like in school? I don't know anything about you before we met yesterday." 

"Well, first let me congratulate you on the truly inspired question." 

"Thank you," Ron bowed his head a bit, dramatically accepting her praise, making Hermione laugh. 

"And to answer your question, I was smart- top of my class. I wasn't exactly outgoing, but I had a few close friends, and talked friendly with most people. I was definitely not a girlie girl, but I have no ability in sports whatsoever, so I also wasn't a tomboy. Basically I was pretty much confident in myself, and would stick up for my friends and beliefs no matter the cost. I also think I was a good influence on people. You know, getting them to keep out of trouble and finish their studies." 

"You were a know-it-all." 

"Uh...no, I most certainly," she look at Ron's cockeyed expression and could not continue without laughing, "Okay, okay. I was a know-it-all. But it was for everyone's own good." 

Ron continued to laugh good-naturedly as Hermione continued speaking, "Don't laugh so haughtily, mister. Now it's my turn to ask you a question." 

"Ask away." 

"If you could do one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?" 

"Ha! You think that is a hard question? Not even close. I'd play Quidditch." 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "You would play Quidditch for the rest of your life?" 

"Yes. Yes I would." 

"That's quite boring if you ask me." 

"But I didn't ask you. You asked me. And that is my answer." 

Shrugging in defeat, Hermione responded, "Fair enough." 

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Once dinner ended the two found themselves sitting on Ron's sofa, still playing the question game. 

"Okay, okay," said Hermione, "What is...what is...your...favorite color?" 

"Your losing your touch, Julie, but I'll play along. My favorite color is Cannons orange. Okay, my turn." Ron pondered for a moment, thinking hard. 

"Well?" 

"Okay, but remember you have to answer. Those are the rules." 

"Oh dear, I'm afraid to hear what the question is." 

"Do you date a lot?" 

Hermione was, once again, caught off guard by Ron. "Well...no. Actually, I...I really haven't found anyone in particular who I've wanted to date, and I'm so busy with work and such..." she trailed off and her voice got quieter. "I just don't have much time." 

Ron seemed to be truly taking in her response. Feeling awkward, Hermione spoke, "Okay, so, same question to you." 

"Huh?" 

"Do you date a lot?" In the background Ron's grandfather clock chimed _onc_e. 

"You can't ask that. I just asked you that question." A _third_ time. 

"I believe you made this game up and therefore there are no real rules." A _fourth_ time. 

"Well, now there is." 

"Well, my question would still be grandfathered in." 

"Fine...no. I don't. For the same reasons as you...lack of time. And other stuff..." he trailed off as the clock chimed an _sixth_ time. 

Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that she (Hermione, not Julie) was the other stuff. "Other stuff like what?" she did not even notice the _eighth_ chime in the background. 

Ron gave her his grin, and replied, "That would be another question, and it's my turn." The _ninth_ chime chimed. 

"Okay my question is..." the _tenth_ chime chimed. 

Suddenly Ron's face contorted with confusion as he looked at Hermione. 

"Ron? What's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly. 

"What...what happened to...i don't...Hermione?" he struggled to get the words out. 

A look of horror dawned on Hermione's face as she snapped her head toward the grandfather clock which now read 10:00. She gasped and fought back tears. She had lost track of time. What was she going to do? Looking at Ron, she wordlessly jumped off the couch and ran towards the coat rack to get her purse and quickly apparate away, never to be seen again. 

Just as she was about to apparate, Ron grabbed onto her arm, and she took them both away from Ron's house, and right into her kitchen in Juliet, Iowa. 

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A/N: Hehe! Cliffy of sorts. I noticed not many people reviewed the last chapter, maybe because it was so short. I hope all my previous reviews are still sticking with the story, and I hope you and all new comers to the story will review this chapter and tell me how you feel about it. I really, really, really hope to have the next chapter up tomorrow since I'm on spring break this week and have time. The next chapter will explain why Hermione's been on the run. Sorry that this has taken so long. I really appreciate all you that read and review! 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So I'm writing this when I promised...it's the next day after I posted Ch. 7. Whether or not this will be up today as well idk, but i'm going to try my hardest. 

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"Ron! what are you doing?" Ron was still tightly gripping Hermione's arm after they both appeared in her kitchen. 

"It think it's my turn for a question. Where the hell are we and why the hell are you Hermione all of a sudden?" He continued gripping her arm, wanting to keep her in the room as she struggled to release herself and run. 

"Ron, please! Just...just...leave! You not even supposed to be here. You not supposed to see me like this!" Hermione was on the verge of tears. And she continued to struggle, but Ron spin her around so she was facing him and gripped both of her upper arms. She could not help but look him in the eyes- his eyes which were staring directly into hers. Struck by how sad and tired they looked, she stopped her struggling. Tears persisted with their exit from her tear ducts, and her vision became blurred. Unable to stand the pain she saw in his face, pain she caused, she had to look away. 

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to see you? How long we all have? We didn't know if you were alive or dead or had amnesia..." Ron began an angry and frustrated rant with Hermione abruptly cut off. 

"Well I'm fine. See, here I am, in my own house, happy, healthy, fine. So you don't have to worry anymore. You can go back to Harry and your family and tell them that you saw me, and spoke with me and that I'm perfectly happy, and that everyone should stop looking for me." 

"Somehow I don't think it's that easy. What happened back at my house? Why were you 'Julie' one minute and Hermione the next?" He spat the name Julie in disgust. 

Hermione sighed. She would have to tell him. Even if she wanted to just apparate somewhere else she could only stay away so long. She would need to come back at some point, and knowing Ron's stubbornness he would proably still be right there in the kitchen waiting for her. 

"Fine. I'll tell you everything. Just let go of me," she tried to wrench herself from his arms, but he kept his grip. "I'm not gonna run away, Ron. Let go." She was angry now. He had discovered her. No one was supposed to have discovered her, and now she had no choice but to tell him everything. After what seemed like ten minutes of a stare off between the two, though actually it was only a few seconds, Ron let her go. Hermione sat herself at the kitchen table and looked from Ron to the chair across from her expectantly. "Well? Are you going to sit any time soon?" She did not care that she was being a bitch even though deep down she knew he did not deserve it. It would be easier to stay mad at him if he was mad at her. And she wanted to stay mad, she wanted to get him to leave her alone and never come back. 

Ron stood a moment longer, consciously defying her, letting her know that she could not control him, before he sat in the chair. 

"So, what do you want to know?" 

"Merlin!" Ron cried out, exasperated, "You know damn well what I want to know, Hermione." 

"Humor me, Ron," her voice was dripping with hatred, though it was more toward herself than him. 

"Fine. We'll play it your way. Let's see. To start off with, where the hell are we? Why the hell did you pretend to be someone else? Why the hell did you look like someone else? Why were you going to leave with out telling anyone who you really were? You did you leave in the first place?" With every question Ron's face became a brighter shade of red as it seemed his blood was about to boil over. Hermione's calm and poised demeanor at the opposite end of the table did not help his temper any either. She simply sat there, hands folded together in front of him, spine in a straight line. He finished his questions breathing heavily, obviously overcome with emotion- anger mostly, but also a few other emotions Hermoine could not quite place. 

"Okay. Well, to answer your first question, we are in Juliet, Iowa- we're in the States. This is where I live now, and where I have lived for five years. Obviously, this is my house. When I disappeared, I wanted to make sure I would not be found, so I figured I'd choose a place that wasn't even on a map. A little farming town of less than 100 people and 3 hours away from the closest metropolis. That's how I ended up here." Ron opened his mouth, but never got a word out as Hermione held up a hand signaling him to stop. "There will be time for you to talk later. You asked me a question, quite a few actually, and now you have to let me answer." She looked at Ron, waiting for an objection, but he merely folded his arms, slouched back in his chair, and waited for her to continue. She continued, "So I changed how I looked, to make sure that no one would ever recognize me, as well as my name," at that Ron grunted, but Hermione ignored him and continued, "and I cut off all ties with the magical world- well, except for getting the _Daily Prophet_, but I needed it to keep up with what's going on. Two days ago was the first time in nearly 5 years I used magic." 

"I used it to apparate to Hogwarts so I could attend Professor Dumbledore's funeral. I knew I owed it to him. He had been to good a friend and role-model to not go. So I made it through the whole thing with no one recognizing me until I was just about to leave, and someone taps me on the shoulder and says, 'Hermione?', and I think, 'shit' and turn around to see Ginny." 

"Ginny knew who you were the whole time?" Ron spattered in disbelief. 

"Ron, really. You're going to have to stop these outbursts or I'm gonna stop talking to you." 

"Ginny knew?" He asked again. 

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, still playing the 'this-is-the-most-obvious-thing-in-the-world' game, "Yes, Ron. Ginny knew. Now can I continue?" She didn't wait for a response, "Thank you. Now, where was I?" she paused for a moment pretending to think, pretending that telling him all this was eating her alive from the inside. "Oh, right- Ginny. So Ginny comes up to me and she completely realizes it's me , and so I drag her off to tell her that she must forget that she saw me and never mention it to anyone, but you know Ginny. She simply refused. I told her that she didn't understand, that no one could understand unless they had been where we had been that night, but she just would not give up. Then your mother came over and she thankfully did not recognized me- she didn't have her glasses on- and Ginny introduced me as her friend Julie from the states, and then she invited me for dinner, and you know your mother, almost as stubborn as Gin, she wouldn't take no for an answer. And once I got to your house I was getting especially nervous because I was sure that you and Harry would recognize me, so I did a little detective work in the Twin's room, and I found a bottle of Ivan's Identity Ilixer. I could have 4 people see me differently that what I really am for 24 hours. So naturally, I chose you, Harry, and your parent. Well, everything went off without a hitch, until Ginny stole my purse and left it at the house, forcing me to come back to get it. She didn't know about the Ilixer, and assumed the more time I spent with you, you would be able to realize who I was. And I suppose she was sort of right, since tonight the time limit ran out, and here we are in my kitchen." Ron sat in disbelief, but Hermione took it upon herself to assume that his silence meant satisfaction, and hoped she could trick him into leaving. Standing up and pushing in her chair, she began, "Well, now that you've got your answers, if you could just leave and-" 

"Why?" 

Maybe it wouldn't be that easy. Pretending to be confused, Hermione responded, "Why?" 

"Why did you leave?" His voice broke halfway through speaking, and Hermione, though she could not bring herself to look at him, was almost certain there were tears forming in his eyes. 

_Stay strong, Hermione._ "I guess I just got tired of the wizarding world," she replied, shrugging and continuing to play it cool. 

"You're a terrible liar." 

"I'm not-" 

"I think I deserve the truth. Don't you?" 

She nodded, and pulled out her chair, taking her seat once again. But this time she did not have the cool demeanor. She was visibly scared. He did deserve the truth. He had been too good a friend for too long. She knew that she had to be honest, as much as she'd like to continue lying. 

Swallowing hard, she looked up. This time her barriers were down, and her eyes were glazed over with tears; her eyes burned by the saltiness. "I couldn't live a lie, Ron." 

At that comment, Ron could not help but let out an indignant guffaw of disbelief. "Couldn't live a lie? What are you doing here?" The anger was rising again. 

"I'm talking about lying to millions of people who think we're their saviors when we all know that we aren't!" 

"I'm not lying to anyone, Hermione!" 

"Yes, you are! And apparently you're also lying to yourself!" 

"And what exactly am I lying about? And why don't I know about it? Huh?" The tension between the two was at it's breaking point. 

"HE'S NOT DEAD RON!" and with that last comment, Hermione could no longer keep her tears from falling, and she broke into small controlled sobs. Putting her hands over her face in exasperation. The two stayed silent for a long time. Ron, who was still uncomfortable around crying woman, was also enraged by what her last comment implied. Every few seconds Hermione would sniffle and draw in a ragged breath. Ron stayed silent. 

After awhile, Ron realized someone needed to speak or they would be there forever. "Uh...Hermione, he _is_ dead. I don't know where you would have gotten the idea he wasn't. Maybe you black out for a little while and no one reali-" 

"I didn't black out, Ron." Her voice was quiet and strained from crying, but strong and confident none the less. 

"Well, the I don't know why you would think he wasn't dead when everyone knows-" 

"There was no body," she said, quite rationally- simply stating a fact. 

Ron mouthed wordlessly for a moment before he got his wits about him and spoke. "Well, of course there was no body. He was a spirit, not an actual being. We couldn't find a body if there was no body in the first place!" Ron was beginning to get upset again, but Hermione would not- or perhaps it was could not- take the bait. 

"He was a spirit all the other times Harry fought him because he was building up strength. We all knew that the final showdown would be against him as a _human_. And if he was human there should have been a body." 

"We didn't know for sure he'd be human. We just- no, actually _you_ just assumed it would be and we went along with it since you normally we right about things like that. But you're not infallible, Hermione. You could have been- no _were_, wrong. He's dead." 

"Ron. Listen to yourself. You're contradicting yourself left and right. The only way we could have killed him would be _if he was human_. You can't kill a spirit. So either he was human and we _failed_ to kill him, or he was a spirit and we _didn't_ kill him, because we _couldn't_. No matter which happened he's still not dead, yet you and Harry continued to lead millions of people into a false sense of security! And I couldn't be a part of that! I couldn't have that on my conscience!" She had started crying, once again upset. 

Ron didn't have time or patience to give her sympathy, and even though it broke his heart to see her so upset, he was still upset at her. "Then what happened to him? Why hasn't he or his goons been causing trouble or even been seen since?" 

"We may not have killed him, but we drained him pretty bad. He's probably needed a lot of time to recuperate, so he's lying low. He'll want the next attack to be a surprise, therefore, no activity beforehand by anyone associated with him. Let people let down their guards. Let the ministry become a bit lax on their Auror and police training. It all makes it easy for world domination to occur easier the next time. You played right into his hands- letting everyone think there was no more threats. It'll be so easy now. It was the best thing that could have happened to him." 

Ron breathed heavily. "So if your right, and I'm not saying you are, but if you were, and you were so sure that you were, you decide to handle it by leaving the country and allowing everyone to fend for themselves?" 

Hermione's was quiet and dejected when she answered, "What could I do? Everyone was so happy, and I tried mentioning something to Harry and he brushed it aside. I knew you would both react exactly like you just did. And I couldn't very well go out and make a mockery of both of you by telling everyone you were lying. I'd be made a fool out of. The black cloud in a world of blue sky." Ron was not looking at her, and biting the inside of his lip the way he often did when he was deep in thought. "Ron, you know I'm right. You and Harry aren't stupid. You had to have realized that something was wrong after we escaped. I understand why you didn't want to admit it at the time- not with everything going to so well- but can you honestly tell me now that you didn't?" 

Ron's voice was just as quiet as hers when he responded. "I thought you made a mistake in thinking he would be human. I wanted you to have made a mistake. Merlin, we'd been fighting for 7 years. I wanted so bad for it to be over. Just to be normal. Have a normal life after all the years of abnormality. To be able to live without fear." 

"And I didn't? Ron, we had to grow up so fast. I would have loved for everything to slow down. To...finish the things we started," she ventured, meaningfully looking at him. "But I couldn't lie about it because I would still know that it wasn't over. Not really. Not forever." 

"We were so worried, Harry and I. Everyone else too, of course, but especially Harry and I. We didn't understand why you left- or if you left for that matter, or if you had been kidnapped or something. Thought maybe you had...died." 

"I didn't know what else to do. It was scary for me as well. I'm used having all the answers, thinking levelheadedly, and yet for the life of me I could not think of a suitable way out. So I just left." 

Sighing heavily and shaking his head, Ron said, "So, your back and Voldermort is still alive. What do we do now?" 

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A/N: Yay! this will be up today just like I promised! Hope you enjoyed it. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. Please review! 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Well, I am writing this. As we speak...well actually as I type. It's about four days after I last posted, and I want to get this out soon, but I don't know if I will. Hopefully I'll get some more reviews. I'm afraid I lost some people by not posting. Hopefully not. So if you do read this please review! 

A/N2: so yeah it's been quite awhile, huh? I'm really sorry for the lack of posting. As you can see from the first author's note, I did start writing awhile ago! It's just that Junior year has been crazy and there really hasn't been time for me to write at all if it wasn't for a school assignment. But I'm now on summer break, so hopefully I will be able to write more... 

AN3: I am really posting it this time! 

_Last time_: Sighing heavily and shaking his head, Ron said, "So, you're back and Voldermort is still alive. What do we do now?" 

"That's really up to you and Harry. If you want to tell people, I'll stand behind you 100 percent. If you still don't want to tell anyone anything, then I'll keep my mouth shut." 

"And stay away from us," said Ron almost inaudibly. He was looking at the floor. 

Hermione sighed and thought for a moment before she spoke. She sounded regretful. "Ron, there is no way that I can show up tomorrow morning on the news and say 'Hey, I'm here and alive' unless we tell the truth. I won't add another lie to the situation by making up a story about why I left." 

"Then we'll tell the truth." 

"Ron.." 

"No. We will tell the truth. To everyone. Having you back with us is more important than our reputations." 

"How do you know Harry feels the same way?" 

"If he doesn't, I'll make him," Ron said smiling. A few years ago his boyish, lopsided grin would immediately make Hermione swoon, but these circumstances were different. They were more dangerous, and Hermione was not ready yet to return the gesture. 

"I'm not so sure he'll be okay with it. Do you realize this is the monster that killed his parents? Who spent 7 years trying to kill him and his friends as well? I'm not so sure he will be eager to admit he's still alive- to go through all that again." 

"Hermione. You know how much it pains me to say this, but you are right. We basically are feeding into his plan by not telling everyone. Harry doesn't want more killing. When he realizes what could happen by not coming forward...He'll want to tell people." He said this kneeling by her chair. His eyes showed her his sincerity. 

Slowly, Hermione nodded. "Okay. So when do we tell Harry?" 

Standing up, Ron walked to the kitchen window and looked out. "As soon as possible I suppose. Tomorrow morning- once he's already up, of course. Having him wake to see you may kill him." It was a joke, but neither laughed. It wasn't the time. It didn't feel right. Suddenly the heavy weight that had been gone for five years was back at full force. Even Hermione, whom the weight had never left, felt it more so than ever before. 

"You should get some sl-" he stopped mid-sentence and turned back to face her. "How do I know you won't leave again? Not show up tomorrow?" 

Hermione thought for a second. "Well, I suppose you don't. You just have to trust me." 

"What would make you think I wouldn't? I've always trusted you." 

"HA! You have never trusted me Ronald Weasley. You contradicted everything I ever said." 

"Yeah, but that was because it was a way I could always get a rise out of you. In actuality I believed everything." 

Hermione shot him a disbelieving look and tutted, "I cannot believe you would even say that. That is the most-" 

But Hermione could not finish her rant because Ron's lips were soon on hers. This kiss was different then there last. It was softer, and more searching. As though Ron could not believe it was really her and wanted to make sure. When they parted, Ron kept his one arm around her waist and the other on her chin as he softly spoke, "Told you I could always get a rise out of you." 

Hermione could not help but also smile when she saw his lopsided grin show up once more. "I see you still shut me up the same way you use to." She could not shake how right this felt-- her in his arms. It was perfect. Simply perfect. 

"When are we going to talk about _this_?" Ron asked. "We sorta left it for dead back then, but apparently it didn't die." 

"Apparently." 

"But can we just be...what we were? Don't we need to, I don't know, sort out our issues?" 

"We have issues?" 

"Well, I mean, I figured girls, you know, they like...to talk...about stuff, and I thought you, oh jeez." Hermione decided to put Ron out of his flustered misery. 

"I'm kidding Ron. You're right. I realize that you can't really pick something up that ended five years ago-especially the way we ended it- without sorting things out, but not now. Right now we have bigger things to worry about." 

"Right. So, meet me at my place around 10 tomorrow? I'll make sure Harry is there." 

"Okay." 

And with one last peck on the cheek and a nod, Ron apparated out of her house, and Hermione was left to her own thoughts. 

"Maybe we shouldn't do this. Maybe I shouldn't be here when you tell him. I don't want to give him a heart attack." 

Ron and Hermione were standing in Harry's living room, whispering. Harry was still sleeping in his bedroom down the hall. They had expected him to be up by now, and that Ron would go first and tell him, then Hermione would apparate in 10 minutes later, once the shock had lessened. But when Hermione appeared 10 minutes later she saw Ron sitting on Harry's couch, reading _Quidditch: The Magazine!_ Harry apparently had had a rough night and was still asleep at 1 o'clock in the afternoon. 

"If I am going to go wake him up, you may as well just stay. I'll explain it to him once he wakes up, and then bring him in here to see you." 

"Ron, somehow I just don't think-" Hermione never got to tell Ron what she thought because at that moment a very topless-Harry and a very bottomless Ginny (whose top was covered by an oversized Quidditch shirt), walked into the living room. 

"Ron- what are you doing here? Look, it's not what you think...well, yeah it probably is, but don't get mad all right? We're practically married, after all." 

"Oi, Potter! This not what I bloody want to see in the morning-- no, never!" 

"Ron, don't swear," Hermione said out of instinct, and all of a sudden, every eye in the room was on her. Harry and Ginny, who had been trying to plead their case to Ron, had not even noticed she was in the room. Ron looked apprehensive; Ginny looked pleased; Harry, poor Harry, he just looked confused. 

"What-- what--" Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times much like a fish struggling for breathe. Finally, he said all that he could due to the circumstances. "Hermione?" 

Tentatively, Hermione stepped forward towards Harry. "Yes, Harry. It's really me." 

Harry looked at Ron, and then at Ginny, both of whom nodded without saying a word. Finally, he looked back at Hermione. His eyes glassed over, and Hermione reached out to him. Before she could comfort him he sat down on the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His body quivered. 

The three of them- Ron, Hermione, and Ginny- they were unsure of what to do. They all wanted to comfort him, ease the shock, but they also knew he needed time. They opted to stand there looking at him. After a few minutes of silent staring, Ginny spoke. 

"I think I'll go make us all some tea," she said. But before she had even taken two steps Harry looked up and spoke. 

He red, wet, and puffy eyes were focused onto Hermione. "We thought you were dead. For five years we didn't know if you were missing or dead or hated us. But we thought it was our fault." 

"Oh, oh Harry," Hermione knelt down on the floor beside him and tried to take his hand in hers. He pushed it away and stormed out of the room, slamming the door to whichever room he had entered. 

Hermione exhaled deeply and pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes had also begun to tear up. She sat against the based of the couch pulling her legs to her chest and rested her forehead on top of them. "Well that went well," she said into her knees, exasperated. 

"One of us needs to talk to him," Ginny stated. 

Ron nodded his head in agreement until he realized both Hermione and Ginny were looking at him expectantly. "Why me?" 

"Because he's still in shock over me," said Hermione. 

"And because you are his best friend and have known about this all along," replied Ginny. 

"No I haven't. I found out last night; you knew about it way before me, and you're his fiancee." 

"Yeah, but this is one of those 'Trio' things Ron. It's not my place to console him yet. Maybe after everything has been explained I can do something," she blushed ever so slightly when she as she said 'something', "eventually, but at this point one of you two need to talk to him, and Hermione is right- she isn't the person." 

"Well what am I supposed to do?" 

"Talk to him, you idiot. Explain to him what is going on. Tell him how you felt when you found out. He's probably upset that you aren't freaking out as much as he is," Ginny explained. "I wouldn't put it past him to think that Hermione is an impostor or something." 

Ron opened his mouth to speak but stopped. He looked Hermione up and down for a moment, trying and not succeeding to be nonchalant. 

"For Merlin's sake Ron, I am not an impostor." 

"No, no, I know that. Don't be silly," he tips of his ears turned red. 

"Go talk to him," commanded Ginny. "He needs you." 

Ron sighed; he looked determinably at the hallway and marched toward Harry's room. 

Ron did not bother knocking because he knew he wouldn't get a response. Considering Harry had not locked the door, he took that to mean he really wanted Ron to come in. He was not really sure what he had expected to see: the room trashed, Harry crying his eyes out into the mattress, Harry sullenly looking out the window. He definitely had not, however, pictured what he walked in on-- Harry, laying on his unmade bed, reading a book. A real book, at that. Not even a Quidditch magazine. 

"What the hell is going on?" Harry asked putting down his book and startling Ron so much he physically jumped. Ron had expected he would have to started the conversation. That's how it always was; Harry sulked, everyone else tried to get him to talk. 

"Hermione's back." 

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed. I mean how? Why? When?" Harry sat up on the bed. Ron moved toward the chair next to it and sat. 

"She's been hiding all these years. In the states. Ginny's friend Julie? That was actually Hermione. She took some potion of Fred and George's to make us not see it. Unfortunately for her it wore off in the middle of our date."  
"Why did she come back? No, no...more importantly, why did she leave?" 

"She came back for Dumbledore's funeral," Harry gave a grunt of undeterminable meaning, and Ron continued. "She left because...well...you see..." How on earth was he supposed to tell him this part? _Best just come out with it I suppose...fast and painless..._

"Voldemort isn't dead." 

"What did you just say?" asked Ron. 

AN!!! ALLL DONE!!!! for this chapter at least, and a bit of a cliffy :) Please review it will make me want to write more :) 


	10. Chapter 10

_AN: In case people have been wondering where I have gotten too, I am not archiving on That is where this story is-- these 10 chapter have been rearranged into 6 over there, and a lot of reworking has been done if you would like to read the newer versions. I honestly haven't decided if I want to keep archiving this story here as well, but if anyone wants to read this there or any of the other stories I have written on that site, my username is the same-- krazylikeafox. I will continue to archive my very short one shot on Thanks for all your support. Here is your update._

_Last time: _

_"Why did she come back? No, no, we can get to that later. More importantly, why did she leave?" _

_"She came back for Dumbledore's funeral," Harry gave a grunt of undeterminable meaning. Ron continued. "She left because...well...you see..." How on earth was he supposed to tell him this part? Best just come out with it I suppose...fast and painless... _

"Voldemort isn't dead," the two boys said simultaneously. 

"What did you just say?" asked Ron in disbelief. Surely Harry had not just said what he thought Harry had just said. 

"I said, Voldemort isn't dead. That's why she left." Or maybe he did just say what Ron thought he just said. 

"Bloody hell! Am I the only one who didn't know this?! Were you ever going to let me in on this little secret?" Ron jumped out of the chair he had been sitting in and began madly waving his arms. Harry could not help thinking to himself that if the circumstances had not been so serious, he would not have been able to keep a straight face. 

"Ron, calm down-" Harry stood and walked over to where Ron was pacing in his mad frenzy. 

"Calm down?" He stopped pacing and peered wide eyed at Harry. "_Calm down_?" 

"Ron, seriously. Hear me out." Harry placed two steadying hands on Ron's shoulders. 

"I bloody well better hear you out." But apparently, he did not desire to hear Harry out at that particular moment, as he swatted Harry's arms away and began walking toward the door. 

"I thought you knew," Harry said, throwing his arms up, defeated. 

Ron froze before spinning around to face Harry. For a moment, he look as though was either going to say something or hit Harry, but in the end, Ron just gave the expression of a fish out of water. He was unable to formulate complete sentence. He was not even able to formulate complete words. 

"I'm now guessing that you didn't know." 

"Yeah, good guess, Harry," Ron replied, acidly. He combed his hand through his hair before sitting down on Harry's bed, elbows on his knees, head down. 

"You're doing an excellent impression of me," Harry joked, not realizing that Ron was crying until he noticed the little involuntary shudders pulsing through Ron's body every few of seconds. 

Harry was silent for a few minutes, uncertain what do do, but having the innate feeling he should make a joke to lighten the mood. _Since when did I turn into Ron?_ he wondered to himself. "Come on Ron, if anyone should be crying over this it should be me. I mean, hero," he gestured to himself, and then to Ron, "sidekick. It'll be me doing all the fighting, right?" He was trying to bring up the old joke they shared after the final battle when the press had used those adjectives to describe them. It did not get the response Harry intended, however. 

Ron looked up at him, and even with his puffy, blood-shot eyes, issued Harry a death-stare. "It wasn't funny at the time, and it most certainly isn't funny now." 

Harry was trying his hardest to hold back the feeling of anger that was threatening to come out of him. Ron was angry because he was upset Harry did not tell him about Voldemort, and that Hermione had been hiding from them. He needed to be the one to comfort Ron now, just like Ron had been there for him during his brooding periods. It was not easy though. "You certainly seemed to think it was funny every other time anyone brought it up for the past 5 years." 

"For the past 5 years, I thought Voldemort was dead." 

"What has that got to do with the joke being funny?" 

"Because at the time, as far as I knew, the situation was over! But now, you are treating me like dirt when I'm about to once again risk my life and the life of my family to help you, all because of your hero complex that stopped you from admitting Voldemort wasn't dead in the first place!" Ron was yelling directly into Harry's face at the top of his lungs now. His face was red with rage. 

"My hero complex Ron? _My_ hero complex? Please. Like you didn't just _love_ the attention. You were always looking for a way to make a name for yourself that didn't involve 'brother-of'. You can't possibly tell me that you didn't know there needed to be a body. You may be dumb Ron, but even _you_ aren't _that_ dumb!" Harry was now matching Ron's volume and skin color. 

Both stopped and looked at each other in a kind of face-off. Their bodies were almost mirror images of each other-- fists and jaws clenched, lips pursed, breathing heavily, trying to resist the urge to punch the other. Ron ended the stalemate first, opening the bedroom door and slamming it behind him as he walk out, leaving Harry to punch his wall and fall back onto his bed, holding his now numb hand. 

"So he found out I see," Ginny remarked to Hermione once she heard the door to Harry's room shut, knowing Ron was now inside. When Hermione did not say anything, she continued, "I can't say that I'm upset about it--" 

"Neither can I." 

"I mean, this really needed to-- what?" 

"I'm. Glad. It. Happened. It needed to. I couldn't hide forever, and in the back of my head, I knew that. In the back of my head, I didn't want to hide forever. I wanted to come back and see Ron and Harry again. I wanted to see you and your family. I wanted...I wanted to be with Ron." 

"So, really...you should...thank me," Ginny said to test the waters and see exactly how glad Hermione was. 

"Well, I'd rather have come back with a bit more control over the situation, but...yes, I suppose I should thank you. I might have never actualy pushed myself to come back. So...thank you, Ginny." 

Ginny smiled warmly and made her way over to the sofa. She sat down next Hermione and pulled her into a one armed hug. "You're welcome, Hermione. And, I'm glad you are back, too." 

The two friends sat in silence for a moment, both glad that some weight had been lifted from the situation. "So what exactly happened? How did Ron realize?" Ginny asked. 

Hermione sighed and told her the story. 

Ginny had never laughed harder. "You...you...Fred...George...oh, man Hermione." She was now wiping tears from her eyes. 

"Gin, it isn't funny. Gin," but now Hermione was laughing too. "Oh, God, yeah, I suppose it is funny. I can't believe I just drank something out of the twins' closet." 

Both of the girls were in hysterics when the heard another door slamming and saw a very red faced Ron come back into the living room. They stopped laughing immediately. 

"Ron, what--" Ginny never got a chance to finish. 

"Your conceited, ass of a fiancee is in his room if you want to talk to him. Good luck penetrating his thick head though," and with that last thought, he apparated away. 

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other in awe and quite a bit confused. 

"I should probably..." Ginny trailed off with a look toward Harry's bedroom. 

"Yeah, and maybe I should..." Hermione trailed off, looking in the direction of were Ron was last standing. 

"Yeah, you probably should. He probably would want you too." 

"You think?" 

"I know. He really missed you, Hermione. We all did, but Ron...well, he took it especially hard." Ginny smiled at her friend and gave her a hug. "I'm glad your back, Herm." With one last look, she headed off toward Harry's bed room, hearing the 'pop' as Hermione apparated to Ron's. 

_AN: Next chapter, the couples talk. And probably some other stuff ;)_


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: Sorry about the time it has taken me to update. I just finished my finals so I had spent the past two weeks trying to study. Anyway, I hadn't really intended this story to have much Harry/Ginny, but I'm finding that it is. At least so far. Honestly, I'm not really a huge supporter (or non-supporter, for that matter) of the ship, it just seems possible and usually just ends up happening in my stories. Ah, well. This is still a predominately Hermione/Ron story. On another note, do you all think this story is moving at a proper speed? Not too slow; not to fast? I've never written a chapter story, and I want to make sure I'm not boring people..._

Ginny knocked softly on Harry's door. She didn't actually expected a response; she was merely hoping that she could alert him to her presence, effectively making sure he did not throw something at her if he thought she was Ron. "Harry? Harry, it's your lovely, gorgeous, and brilliant fiancee. Can I come in?" No response came from behind the door. "Well, fine, I thought I'd be nice and ask, but your approval wasn't really necessary." She moved to open the door, only to find that it was locked. "Yes, well, now aren't I in a predicament?" she said sarcastically. "I mean, it isn't as though I am a witch and can just magic the door open. Oh, wait-- yes, I am. Nice try Mr. Potter, but..." It was at this point she realized she was only wearing an oversized Quidditch shirt. Her wand was still in Harry's bedroom. _Okay, fine-- onto plan B_. "Harry James Potter, you open this door right this instant or I will never, EVER, marry you!" 

Click. The door opened wide enough for her to enter. 

"Ha. Works every time. I play on your weakness of not being able to resist my charms." She wriggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, but Harry continued to stare out his window. She sat down next to him on his bed and put a comforting hand on his knee. "What happened? Ron apparated out in a huff. And he had a few choice words that one does not normally tend to use when speaking of his best friend." Still, Harry said nothing. "Harry? Harry look at me," she took his chin in her hand and physically turned his head to her. 

"Gin, stop!" He moved his head out of his grip and stood up in front of the window. "I don't want to talk about this right now." 

Ginny exhaled heavily and got up of the bed and moved to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head on his shoulder, she replied playfully, "Fine. We don't have to talk. We can do things like...like we did last night. Things that my brother would hate for us to be doing." He made no response, and she released her hold on him. "Fine. You know Harry, I love you to death, and I probably always will. Some might consider it a character flaw, but I don't much mind because I think you are the most wonderful person I know. I could, however, do without the brooding, 'no one understands me' bit. I'll be at the Burrow if you come to your senses." 

She apparated out, and Harry kept on staring. 

Hermione found herself in Ron's living room for the third time now. Everything looked just as it had the night before. _Ron apparently still has something against cleaning_, Hermione mused as she noticed his kitchen sink was still filled with the soiled dishes from their date the night before. _Our date_. Then again, he had not had much time for cleaning. She smiled as memories of the night before rushed back to her. 

Ron had been such a gentleman. The night was so perfect before that ruddy elixir wore off. She had thought she knew Ron inside and out; that he was so predictable he would not have changed much in the five years since she had been gone, but he had. He was more forceful and less rash. _Just a little bit less, though_, she thought. _He did jump on me as I apparated away_. He seemed so much more confident. Even just five years ago, after he had already grown into his body and had become more toned from Quidditch, Hermione could tell that he still saw a lanky fifteen year old in the mirror. But when he had asked her out, she knew it was Ronald Weasley the man who was asking. The tips of his ears still changed to the slightest of pinks, but she only noticed because she expected it and knew where to look. Other than that small hint that he was nervous, she could have easily mistaken him for one of those blokes who thinks any women would be daft reject an offer of a date with him. _And he knows how to cook..._

"Oh..." she broke out her reverie to realize Ron was in front of her, leaning on the wall. "Hi." 

"Hi," he responded, looking at her questioningly. A wisp of red hair fell across his eyes, and he swatted it away. 

"I'm...um...I'm...um..." she muttered breathlessly. _Why on earth can I suddenly not think of anything to say? I'm never at a loss for words! _

"...at my house?" He offered. 

"Yes. I am at your house," he looked at her, and she nervously laughed, realizing she should probably continue, "...and you are probably wondering why, right?" 

He shrugged, "Not really. Beautiful women are always popping in at all hours." 

"Oh...oh, well, right. I'm mean...of course they do," she could feel the blush rising on her cheeks and pang in her heart cause by an emotion she could not quite place, or perhaps, was not quite ready to admit to. _He said he didn't date a lot though...oh, honestly, of course he does. Just look at him. No man would admit that though. Not to a girl they were trying to bed. Which I am sure is what he wanted before he realized who I was. Why does that hurt so much?_ He was starting to grin at her with that grin. _Oh, no. What if he still just wants to bed me? What if he thinks that is why I am here-- that that's what I want? Well, he can just wipe that stupid grin off his face._ "But I am afraid that is not why I am here, Ron. I am here--" 

"What's not?" The grin was even wider now, and his eyes shone brighter with amusement. 

"What?" she asked, confused. 

"_What's_ not what you are here for?" 

"Honestly, Ron. You know perfectly well what I am talking about," he was making her flustered. He was always able to do that. 

"No, I don't. Tell me." 

"Well, you-- no, never mind, it really isn't important. Anyway, as I was saying--" 

"No, Hermione. I want to know. I don't want to accidentally do what ever is you aren't here to do." 

She snorted at that. "It isn't exactly something that you can do _accidentally_, Ron...well, at least, I don't _think_ so." 

"Well, just in case, perhaps you should tell me." 

"No, that really isn't--" 

"Come on, just say it, what's the big--" 

"I'm telling you it's not a big deal, that is why I don't need to--" 

"I really think you should just--" 

"SEX, RON! Okay, I'm talking about SEX!" She inhaled sharply, covered her mouth with her hand, and looked at Ron wide eyed as she finished, blushing furiously. Their volumes had been increasing as this argument had gone on, and she had practically screamed that she had been 'talking about sex' in an otherwise utterly silent room. 

Ron tried to hold back his laughter but could not succeeded in doing so for long before he burst. Within seconds he had tears streaming down his face and looked, in Hermione's opinion, as though he had gone mad. 

Hermione got over her embarrassment immediately and focused her energy into being annoyed. "_What_ is so funny, Ronald Weasley? Hmmm?" She folded her arms, tapped her foot, and glared at him. 

By this point he had seated himself on his sofa, still laughing uncontrollably. He stopped laughing long enough to choke out, "you said 'sex'," and then continued to laugh again. 

Hermione unfurled her arms and waved them through the air in irritation. "Honestly, Ron, we aren't seven. 'Sex' is just a word." 

He was trying to hold back his laughter so hard that when she said the 's-word' again, he snorted instead of laughed. "Your right," --laughter-- "'sex'," --laughter-- "is not a funny word," --laughter-- "unless, it is you saying it." He was laughing into the cushion now. 

Hermione was thoroughly annoyed and somewhat angered. "One more laugh out of you, and you will have a second person walking out on you in a huff today." Her glare had been growing more intense with each laugh. 

He sobered somewhat as he said, "I was the one who did the walking today, Hermione. Harry just sat in a huff." His solemnity didn't last however as quite soon he was chuckling softly to himself again. 

"That is it! I'm leaving!" 

"No wait!" He reached out to her. "Don't go okay. I won't laugh anymore. You are absolutely right," he choked back a small laugh by turning it into a cough, "not funny. Not at all." He breathed deeply. "See," he said, pointing to his mouth, "no laughing. None at all. Just a smile that says I'm happy to see you." He patted the couch cushion next to him, "Sit with me, won't you?" 

Despite her best efforts, she felt her resolve buckling at his smile. _Damn him_, she thought as she sat. "So, now that what we have established what you aren't here for--" she gave him a warning glare, "hey, give a bloke a chance, all right? Now that we have established what you are not here for, maybe you can clue me in as to what you are here for." 

"I'm here to make sure you are all right. From what I got out of the situation--based solely on the yelling and door slamming--" her voice got softer and more consoling, "was that things didn't go very well with Harry." 

Ron released a small, breathy laugh and shook his head. "No, I suppose you could say that things did not go very well." 

"What happened?" She pulled her legs underneath her so she could turn her body towards Ron. "Did he not want to believe it?" 

"No. He believed it. He already knew about it actually." 

"What?" 

"You heard me," he said so softly that if the room had not been completely silent, it would have been inaudible. 

"Yeah, I heard you, but I don't understand. He _knew_? _Knew_ what? Surely not about Voldemort being alive." 

"That is exactly what he knew about." 

"He couldn't have." Hermione's voice was almost pleading. 

"You knew. Apparently, I was the only idiot who didn't understand there needed to be a body." 

"Your not an idiot, Ron." She felt the need to say it even if they had bigger problems on their hands. "But what I mean is that Harry couldn't have known because there is no way he would be so irresponsible and...and..._selfish_ as to not admit that and go on to tell the entire world that it was safe and sound from the most powerful and evil wizard of the age!" She was up on her feet now. Pacing back in forth in front of the sofa desperately trying to make sense of what Ron had just said. 

"Well, it looks like he did." 

"But that is so-- so-- I don't even know what it is, but it's completely awful! How on earth could he do that? How could he even live with himself these past five years?" 

"Well, it was probably like you said; he wanted to believe it was all over. He most likely tricked himself into believing it," Ron said, rationalizing Harry's actions. 

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Why are you so keen to defend him now when less than an hour ago you were storming out on him enraged?" 

"I wasn't angry about that. Well, not only about that." 

"And what could possibly have made you angrier?" 

"He made a very not funny joke about me being 'just the sidekick.'" 

"Oh, Ron, honestly. He was just kidding." 

Now it was Ron's turn to scoff in disbelief. "Now who's defending him?" 

"I'm defending him because he made a joke to try to lighten the mood. Hmm," she pretended to ponder the situation, "that reminds me of someone else I know. Can't think who though." 

Ron cocked an eyebrow at her, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "_YOU_, Ron." 

He could not argue with that. For years, in uncomfortable situations, his defense mechanism of making jokes would kick in. "Yeah, well the difference is that my jokes are funny." 

"To you maybe." 

"You always laughed at them." He moved closer to her; the tips of their toes were touching. 

"I was young and stupid." 

"You were never stupid, so I refuse to buy that excuse." 

"I was also in love." 

"Well, that is true." 

"Viktor was such a handsome bloke." She said with the utmost seriousness. And Ron scowled. 

"Now who's making bad jokes." 

Hermione made the closest sound to a giggle she ever made in her life. Both were grinning like mad looking into each other's eyes. Ron look at her lips, and she licked her lower lip ever so slightly before biting it's corner. She looked back to Ron's eyes and had barely nodded in consent before his lips were on hers. 

The kiss started off soft, and if they were to be honest, a bit awkward. This was the first kiss they shared that had not been in the passion of the moment or while he believed she was someone else. Neither were really sure what the were allowed to do: they had known each other since they were eleven, but they had not seen each other in five years; they had kissed twice before, but this was the first kiss that not spur of the moment; they were adults, but at the moment, both felt like they were seventeen again. When Ron finally decided to but his hands on her hips, and she placed her hands on the back of his neck, both lost all control and all awkwardness disappeared. Blind passion took over their actions as her fingers became lost in his hair, and his hands slid under her shirt to touch the smooth skin of her hips. She felt him nudge her back, and her feet began moving on their own accord until her heels hit the base of the sofa. His hand was on her back, and he supporting her as he lower them both onto the sofa, their lips never breaking contact. 

In her head, Hermione knew that they should not be doing this. Voldemort was alive. They needed a plan. But this felt so good. His lips had moved off hers and were now on her neck, making in increasingly difficult for her to rationalize the reasons that this should not be happening. _A few minutes of this won't hurt. And besides, Ginny is probably talking to Ha--_ At that point, Ron was nibbling at her ear, and all chance of rationalizing was gone. _That's it. I'm never going to move from this spot. Ever. Never ever._ "Ron!" He looked up at her with guilty eyes, his hand poised at her belt buckle. _Well that's one way to snap me back to reality_. She maneuvered herself out from under him, and he sat, staring back at her like a puppy who knew he just did something wrong, but was not entirely sorry about it. 

"I'm sorry. It's just when I start touching you and kissing you, my brain cells starting dying one by one at rapid speed and then I --" 

"No." She looked directly at him. "Don't be sorry, okay? I'm not sorry. Well, I am sorry, but only because of the fact we don't have time for..._that_," she emphasized the word by looking at the sofa, "right now." 

Ron's eyes widened when he caught on. "But...but we will later?" 

She smirked at him coyly. "Maybe. Maybe some of it. Not all of it though. I don't want you accusing me of being a scarlet-woman after all." 

"Scarlet is a great color on you." She laughed. She loved the feelings that came over her when she was around him. 

"Well, we better get to Harry and Ginny." She noticed that Ron did not look too pleased with this idea. "We have to. We have bigger issues on our hands than some silly fight between you and your best friend." 

"I still don't understand what we are supposed to do though. We know Voldemort is alive-- or rather, we believe he is, but we don't know where or how to find him." 

"That's why we need to talk to Harry and Ginny. We need to come up with a plan. Yes, I realize it is a foreign idea to you and Harry, but let's try things my way shall we?" 

"All right, if you really think this "plan" idea of yours will work." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, _very_ mature, Miss Granger." 

"I wasn't the one laughing for twenty minutes about a word." He pecked her swiftly, but softly on the lips, causing her to get that dreamy look reserved only for looking at him. 

"Hey, Hermione," he said seriously. 

"Yes?" 

He paused for a moment before continuing. 

"Say it again." 

She rolled her eyes and hit him on the shoulder before apparating away. 

He chuckled slightly to himself before he followed her to Harry's flat. 

_AN: Woo, that was a long chapter. Sorry about the wait. The whole "saying the word 'sex' bit" was kind of in another story but in a different way. The only thing the same was that Ron thought it was funny when she said it. I can't remember which it was, but I liked it and thought I'd put my own spin on it eventually, and lookie-lookie, I did ;) In case anyone is wondering, I have a thread for this story on the Shameless Plugs forum (on ), I usually post there about updates and such, and you can feel free to leave me a message or ask questions._


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